Only Heaven I Know Is Real
© Surazeus
2018 10 11
When I think about all those simple people,
who populate my huge ancestral tree,
waiting with faith for Jesus to return
and resurrect their bodies from the dead,
how they prayed so often to empty sky
with fervent belief of calm trusting faith
in that invisible God no one can see
that he would reward them for loyal trust
by raising them to live in paradise,
my heart aches with anguish for their kind hearts
waiting in vain hope for that fantasy,
maybe wondering at death if it was real.
How sad I feel they waited all their lives
for sweet fantasy that could not be real,
deceived by priests they thought they should respect
who seemed to know secrets of mysteries
describing that marvelous paradise
where people live forever without death,
free from suffering of sorrow and disease,
always savoring pleasure of love and food,
clinging with desperate hope to strange belief
that helped them survive anguish of despair
to get them through brutal struggle of life,
and died longing to become one with light.
How could they know that Heaven they desired
was never more than concept in our minds
designed by Plato as Realm of Ideas
where he thought perfect forms of things persist,
yet are no more than conceptual designs
of geometric shapes that define things
which exist from mixtures of chemicals,
so Ideas are words we use to describe
various objects that follow base design,
since thinkers assumed that each unique human
is based on eternal form of their soul
that persists forever in fantasy.
I savor beauty of this present life
while I exist in this material form,
for genetic code defines form of being
generated full by womb of my mother
who transformed paternal sperm into flesh,
so here I wake, conscious in my own brain
sustained by operations of my body,
growing as I perceive nature of things
to design virtual world in neural net
by which I exercise will of desire
to reincarnate my soul in my children
so they live after I vanish at death.
This world I perceive, awake now in flesh,
is the only Heaven I know is real,
meadows of dirt where the clear river flows,
rain soaking soil where fruit seeds I plant bloom,
trees rustling in wind that blows from high mountains,
apples hanging ripe from limbs in sunlight,
silver moon gleaming among ragged clouds,
your eyes glowing with joy as we make love,
walking with you along sweet river shore,
singing together where bright flowers smile,
for you and me together is our Heaven,
secure garden of pleasure we create.
© Surazeus
2018 10 11
When I think about all those simple people,
who populate my huge ancestral tree,
waiting with faith for Jesus to return
and resurrect their bodies from the dead,
how they prayed so often to empty sky
with fervent belief of calm trusting faith
in that invisible God no one can see
that he would reward them for loyal trust
by raising them to live in paradise,
my heart aches with anguish for their kind hearts
waiting in vain hope for that fantasy,
maybe wondering at death if it was real.
How sad I feel they waited all their lives
for sweet fantasy that could not be real,
deceived by priests they thought they should respect
who seemed to know secrets of mysteries
describing that marvelous paradise
where people live forever without death,
free from suffering of sorrow and disease,
always savoring pleasure of love and food,
clinging with desperate hope to strange belief
that helped them survive anguish of despair
to get them through brutal struggle of life,
and died longing to become one with light.
How could they know that Heaven they desired
was never more than concept in our minds
designed by Plato as Realm of Ideas
where he thought perfect forms of things persist,
yet are no more than conceptual designs
of geometric shapes that define things
which exist from mixtures of chemicals,
so Ideas are words we use to describe
various objects that follow base design,
since thinkers assumed that each unique human
is based on eternal form of their soul
that persists forever in fantasy.
I savor beauty of this present life
while I exist in this material form,
for genetic code defines form of being
generated full by womb of my mother
who transformed paternal sperm into flesh,
so here I wake, conscious in my own brain
sustained by operations of my body,
growing as I perceive nature of things
to design virtual world in neural net
by which I exercise will of desire
to reincarnate my soul in my children
so they live after I vanish at death.
This world I perceive, awake now in flesh,
is the only Heaven I know is real,
meadows of dirt where the clear river flows,
rain soaking soil where fruit seeds I plant bloom,
trees rustling in wind that blows from high mountains,
apples hanging ripe from limbs in sunlight,
silver moon gleaming among ragged clouds,
your eyes glowing with joy as we make love,
walking with you along sweet river shore,
singing together where bright flowers smile,
for you and me together is our Heaven,
secure garden of pleasure we create.
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